


Flowers

by NotEvenWithAMilkshakeCat



Series: All the Stars In the Sky [3]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Feminism, Flowers, Gen, Poetry, Slam Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:40:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25638193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenWithAMilkshakeCat/pseuds/NotEvenWithAMilkshakeCat
Summary: A slam poem wherein I yell about the meanings flowers have (and maybe the performance art of femininity).
Series: All the Stars In the Sky [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1858528
Kudos: 1





	Flowers

I hate flowers.

Not in the wild, where they’re supposed to be. I like them there.

They grow without regard for others and exist merely for their own sake.

I can appreciate that.

Just doing what you’re doing regardless of the opinions of others.

But cut flowers.

Flowers grown for beauty.

Flowers grown for a purpose.

Something unwanted and forced upon them that they have no choice but to obey

simply because of an inherent nature they never asked for.

I can’t stand flowers like that.

Such things are merely a performance art, existing only for others.

Even if they wanted to exist for themselves, how can a flower divorce itself from its beauty?

How can a rose be anything but a rose?

A symbol of love so overused and banal it makes me nauseous.

When do poinsettias mean anything other than Christmas to a Christian?

When does a white lily mean more than Easter?

Flowers are only ever things of beauty or a metaphor. Even in this poem.

Still now I have given them another meaning they never asked for

never consented to wanting.

What would they say, if they could talk to us, tell us how they feel about being used without regard for their feelings, their opinions?

What would they think of our metaphors?

Of the language we have crafted solely to describe them?

Of the meanings we have given them that they know nothing of?

Would you even listen?

What difference does the opinion of one flower, or a dozen, or millions make?

Having a voice and using it hasn’t stopped you.

Hasn’t changed your opinion of me.

Hasn’t released me from the performance art of being a woman.

Why do I think flowers would be any different?

**Author's Note:**

> This is a 3 poem series, so I recommend you read Flowers Pt 2 and Flowers Pt 3 (the next two in the series) for the full scope, although this makes sense alone.


End file.
